


Control

by a_bag_of_cats



Category: Marvel Cinematic Universe, The Avengers (Marvel Movies), Thor (Movies)
Genre: Acting, Action, Angry Loki, Badass SHIELD Agents, Biology, Canon Compliant, Charm, Control, Control Issues, Dark, Dark Character, Dark Loki, Dark Past, Death, Deception, Dom Loki, Eventual Sex, Eventual Smut, Evil, Evil Loki, Evil Plans, F/M, Fear, Framing Story, Interrogation, Language, Level 7 (SHIELD), Lies, Loki-centric, Magic, Manipulation, Mild Language, Mind Control, Morbid, Mortality, Murder, Original Character Death(s), Phobias, Plot, Pre-Thor: The Dark World, Psychology, Rape/Non-con Elements, Rough Sex, SHIELD, Trickster Loki, Violence, Warning: Loki, eloquence, mindfuckery
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-07-27
Updated: 2014-07-27
Packaged: 2018-02-10 17:12:51
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 10,463
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2033229
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/a_bag_of_cats/pseuds/a_bag_of_cats
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Shortly after Loki escapes SHIELD's facility with the Tesseract, yet another high-level agent is taken for use in his plans. After New York, she is returned to them. But the story of where she's been, what happened to her there, and why nobody knew, raises more questions than it answers - and it becomes crucial evidence when, one year later, she disappears entirely.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Control

Director Coulson,  
Here is the requested transcript for the debriefing of missing level seven agent Sara Iversen.  
The interviewing agent, Benjamin Lund, is a friend; someone she's spoken with informally on several occasions. We chose him for the task to ensure that she would not keep anything to herself- given the nature of the encounter, some of the information was likely to be temporary.  
It was recorded without her (direct) knowledge, on-site, at the time of last contact.

* * *

  
SI:   Hi...

 

BL:  Iversen! You actually showed. [laughing]

 

SI:   It's good to be back, Agent Lund. And what a coincidence, that you would be the first person I really spoke with here. [looking around room] No mics or cameras, either. They're so kind, and considerate. But, then again, I _am_ their favorite little project!

 

BL:   Noooo... I mean - . It's just - . Um. You seem a little _different._ [raising hands] I didn't want to say it! Please don't hurt me!

 

SI:   No promises. So anyway. What is it that I'm supposed to tell you exactly?

 

BL:   Tell me everything.

 

SI:   Um. Okay. I know this is your job. And I'm sure you've already heard some... things. But what really happened... _all_ of it... it's a lot more _messed-up_ than you think...

 

BL:   Every. Single. Detail. _Go._

 

SI:   Okay. [sighing, speaking with hands over face] You know that I was there, at the Joint Dark Energy Mission Facility, when the Tesseract was activated, right?

 

BL:   [nodding]

 

SI:   Well, I wasn't evacuated right away, because there was a good chance I could help. But when it all got out-of-hand, then I _did_ run. I was with the second wave... [shudders] That situation went from scientific oddity to melee, and I was unarm - _afraid._ I ran because I was afraid.

Afterwards, I got a call from Coulson. He said I'd done the right thing. He told me to go to the university - and stay there - but to keep working on my research. That it might soon become more important than ever. He said that all info on me had been erased from SHIELD's records, so I should just play dead until further notice. And I didn't argue.

Unfortunately, I realized, I didn't have my notes there anymore. They were at my safe house... which was never on record in the first place. And it was only a few blocks away. I went to get them.

I was on my way back, walking through the parking lots. I knew I probably shouldn't have left at all, not even for my work, so I was staying aware of my surroundings as well. Knowing that a confrontation could happen at some point, just from Coulson's tone of voice.

I was almost there; maybe thirty feet from the east-wing doors. Then, out of nowhere, a sting in the back of my neck - and total darkness. I couldn't see at all. I spun around. I guess I was hoping my vision would come back so I could see them. It did not.

All of my other senses were there, but becoming further and further detached. My muscles weren't responding to me anymore. Even my breathing and heart rate slowed. I couldn't do anything about it.

There was one muffled voice; male. I've no idea what he said. Before I could fall, he caught me. And shortly thereafter, I lost consciousness.

 

BL:   The voice... was it high, low? Gravelly? Clear? Whispered or spoken? Anything else about him?

 

SI:   It was high-ish and clear. Spoken. There was no attempt to hide what he was saying. I think he knew, at that point, that I couldn't speak, and that noone was noticing what was going on.

 

BL:   [sighing] There certainly were no witnesses. What's the next thing you remember?

 

SI:   I... regained consciousness slowly. I kept fighting to stay awake for longer and longer. And you know I'm a fighter! I _have no_ weak state of mind. But that's how strong it was, whatever they gave me. When I was finally able to focus, I looked around. I was in a room, cement... underground. Guarded - two guards. One door, no windows, tied to a chair of course, hands and feet all separate. Clothes and concealeds all missing. I'd been redressed in somebody's giant, smelly T-shirt. Even my hair tie was gone. These guys were no amateurs. Barton was there, watching me - and everyone else - diligently, with his creepy blue eyes. When he glanced over, it looked like he recognized me... he turned away too fast.

The hallway echoed his report that I was awake. There were a lot more people there... They passed by the room, many in uniform, and some not - but I couldn't make out any more faces. A few minutes later, _he_ appeared...

 

BL:   Loki.

 

SI:   Yes. He looked just the same as he did before... when I watched him murder my coworkers. Bright blue eyes. Hair slicked back, wearing a stylized black and green leather coat, and custom metal armor, if I recall. It looked a bit worn, and so did he. I wondered how long I'd been there.

He found me in the room immediately, grinned like it was freaking Christmas, and introduced himself.

"I am Loki, of Asgard..." He paused for my reaction. "... but, you already know _that_." He strode toward me with an air of confidence.

"You are here, because you have something that I desire. Knowledge."

He kept his eyes on me the whole time he spoke. It was... almost like he was looking for the _fear_ in me. And when he didn't see it... I could tell it really frustrated him. My training made it so I didn't show him anything. It came surprisingly easily, considering in reality I was pretty damn well _terrified._

I told him I was just a low-clearance scientist, a consultant.

"I don't _know_ anything. Not that could be of any use to... something like you."

He gave me a very disingenuous frown.

"Oooh. That _stings,_ Agent. 'Thing' is a title reserved for _monsters._ What I am is..." He thought for a minute. "well, I'm your new king."

He bent down gracefully to my level and lowered his voice. "Now. I need _your_ help to secure the throne. And I must say, it would very much behoove you to cooperate."

I stared at one of my restrained feet, and wiggled my toes.

He took his left hand, and pressed lightly on my chest with his fingers, studying them.

"Inside you, is the knowledge of Midgard's various... champions, correct?" He looked up at my eyes again.

I'm sure that - even behind the long, loose hair and the scowl - they still betrayed my surprise. How did he know about the Initiative? Perhaps Barton knew, but then, why was I here? What could he possibly want from me, at a time like this, surrounded by physicists, engineers and military experts -

His hand went from my chest to my throat.

"You will answer me when I ask you a question, mortal."

In a flash of defensive anger, I tried to pull away, then glared at him. I strained not to let his grip distort my voice.

"I know... of the people that Fury's been contacting."

He released me and returned to his original disdainful, regal pose.

"Yes. Barton told me they would be gathering, in some... _feeble_ attempt to defend this realm."

I looked at Barton. He stood expressionless in the shadows again, bow-in-hand.

"I won't tell you anything about us that you haven't already found out for yourself."

He furrowed his brow in an expression of mock-concern.

"You underestimate yourself, almost as much as you do me, I see." He began to pace the floor in front of me. "Well. Willingly or not, you'll tell me _everything_. It's part of your fickle nature. Your loyalty, your virtues, your beliefs. _Every_ useful secret that you keep." I followed him, stoically, with my eyes. He continued.

"It serves you no purpose to withhold truths from me. I have _many_ different strategies, which I could use to win this realm. Should you force me to use another, you would only cause more _suffering_ and _death_."

I analyzed him, trying to determine if this was more likely to be a bluff... or just pure, cruel honesty. But his mannerisms were nothing like those of any other being I'd studied. He was chaotic, unpredictable. I decided to counter him anyway. Uncertain of how he'd react, I made sure my tone was not aggressive. Only informative.

"I don't think you understand exactly how resilient we are. Our history is filled with examples of loss - up to and including life itself. Voluntarily sacrificed, to defend the needs of greater numbers. And there's nothing that we need more... than to be free." He let out a guttural laugh, looked to the side, and taunted me.

"Words of the bravery of children, squabbling over possessions, unaware of the _brutality_ that awaits you, just beyond closed doors..." He sneered.

"You will relinquish your 'needs' to me - when those possessions smoulder in wreckage - and there are scarcely a few left living and able to beg for them." He turned and stared menacingly, his tone now dark and threatening.

"If you are to tell me _stories_ , choose only the ones which detail the inner workings of your woefully-oblivious protectors."

He was unbelievably intimidating. The hidden, deep-down fear was rising to the surface as I considered what the end of this encounter would probably be... and whether I would break before then. His methods were subtle. He made me _want_ to give in to him; something I'd never experienced before. And his was such an innocuous request... I knew it was against protocol, but what he wanted wasn't really going to give him any advantages. I was thinking that maybe, to hold back some old profile info, was just not quite worth my life... He interrupted that thought.

"You will be released, unharmed, if you do as I ask."

 

BL:   'Unharmed' is not how I would describe the state you came here in.

 

SI:   I know.

 

BL:   So what did you tell him?

 

SI:   I told him about all the people I knew of - at least, the humans, that he might consider a threat. Steve Rogers, Natasha Romanov, Tony Stark... The basic facts. Trivia of physiology and psychology. Nothing that wouldn't also make itself obvious after some quality time with one. _Blatantly_ obvious, in Stark's case.

 

BL:   And how did he react?

 

SI:   He just... stood there. Didn't say a word, just listened, very intently. He sat down in an identical chair, after awhile. I felt like as long as I kept talking, I was safe.  
When I was done, he said with a polite smile:

"Thank you. That all is very... amusing." He stood up, straightening his overcoat. He shook his finger at me. "But I don't think you've described every one. Surely someone as... diverse, as yourself, could not settle for such mundane subjects alone."

My thoughts raced. I had a lot of unfinished projects. He knows about SHIELD. He's got Barton - what else does he want? What do I know, that Barton...

Oh god.

No.

He looked down. The smile faded. He said nonchalantly, "Now tell me about the _other_ subject of your studies. Your beastly friend. Banner, I believe."

I huffed as if incredulous, and said

"Why would I know anything about _that_ mess."

All of a sudden he lunged at me, viciously, and got in my face. He put his weight on my leg, crushing it with his left hand, his right held back in a fist like he was ready to gut-punch me or something. His voice, just... _burning_ with rage, he said

"DON'T LIE to me."

I froze up. I struggled not to breathe too fast; my heart was already pounding. And with that, he let go. He stepped back. His wide, rageful eyes relaxed. He seemed satisfied. Like all he'd ever wanted was for me to show him I was afraid! And for some reason, realizing this made me very angry. He saw that, too. He moved, nonchalantly, to the other side of the room. I realized my leg was hurting a lot more than it should, and I looked down at down at the soft, bare skin. His hand had left a mark.

I dropped my posture in defeat, and looked at the floor.

"I... have been researching Dr. Banner's split-personality." He stood still, listening, hands behind his back. So far so good. "It's an entirely different being. It has no loyalties, no motivations. It doesn't know anything about Bruce or his stress levels, like people think. It actually doesn't exist at all, when you're looking at the man. And that's..." I hesitated. His eyes narrowed just a bit. Judging me.

"Go on."

"... that's the trigger. Dr. Banner has amnesia after each incident, and each incident has been triggered by someone reminding him that it's there. Awakening the monster. He's human now, because he doesn't know otherwise. We're trying to keep it that way, so he's in hiding, far from anyone else that knows. Mongolia." He raised an eyebrow at that... then looked down.

"I see."

He turned away and thought for a minute. I noticed that he focused on his right hand a lot. He looked back towards me without a word, as I eyed everyone in the room. I flipped my hair out of my face.

"You said you'd let me go."

He faced me again with his head held high, considering my request. Then, briefly, he bowed his head.

"Yes of course." He put his hand on his chest, with an expression of sincerity. "And I will keep my word, pet. You've made a wise decision. I will give you what you need."

I didn't like the way he looked at me when he said that. I didn't believe him at all.

He nodded ever-so-slightly towards Barton, who left the room fast like he had some other business. The other guy hesitated, but followed him out in turn.

He approached again, very slowly, and took a knee; but I still flinched when he moved. He looked at the hand he'd raised curiously, then at me. He grabbed my narrow arm and held it for a minute, contemplating, then followed it down to my bindings, breaking them all in one snap. With him so close, I couldn't think straight, couldn't _react_. He went to the other wrist, watching my face carefully. Snap. No flinch. He bent further to free my ankles. Most of me was too busy freaking out, because didn't know what to do... but some small part still did. I summoned every bit of strength I could, and as soon as he'd snapped the last ankle free I struck. I put that foot on the seat of the chair and, lifting myself for full leverage, kneed him hard enough in the face to make him stop for _just_ a second. I used it to jump over the back of the chair and run out towards the hall - but he intercepted me... _impossibly_ fast. He didn't attack, only sternly blocked the doorway. I turned to look for a weapon, and I saw him back at the chair! He opened the eye I'd hit, still focused on the empty seat, but completely unharmed... and across his face spread the smile of a madman.

While he stayed there, seeming to savor the moment, he... um... _also_ appeared just inches in front of me, grinning, and reached for my arm. I kicked him in the upper leg - where there was no armor - stepped backwards, and swung at him quickly, expertly, while he followed. He dodged each move with little effort, and continued to advance, his expression changing slowly from one of amusement to a focused, frightening stare. Then he caught a hand, and when I made a move towards his forearm he caught the other one too. He used my hands to push me backward, with so much force that I tripped and fell on my back. It knocked the air out of my lungs. He pinned me to the floor. One huge hand gathered both wrists over my head, and one held down my hips as he stayed poised over me, never moving from there. The Loki at the chair and the one at the door had disappeared.

I recovered my breath, and fought to free myself. I tried every method I knew - perfectly executed, if only against a human's strength. But I was losing stamina.

Realizing this, he smirked. His right hand left my hips, and in it, something shimmered into perception: the scepter. I. Lost. It. Just all-out _panicked_. Renewed by fear I writhed, and gasped, and struggled with every ounce of my strength. Nothing I did affected him. It didn't even move the hair on his head. He brought the scepter close, and followed my small movements - carefully, calmly - then applied the blade to my chest. I stopped moving... defeated.

He removed the blade and growled a little - having lost all patience. He tilted his head to the side at me.

"Oh! You've stopped _fighting_ me. Are you finished?" he demanded.

I tried to catch my breath. And I said nothing.

His eyes went wide. He searched my face, and put the scepter down. In a flash of green light, my dress of a t-shirt _disappeared_ , and while I tried to comprehend that, he touched me, tracing my skin with all his fingers, applying light pressure, from the collarbone down. When he reached my breasts I squirmed a little, and he quickly withdrew his hand. I looked up at him... humiliated, scared and confused.

It was only a brief look, as I'd already decided what I thought he was trying to do. But in that split second, his eyes locked on mine, and they just... _pierced my soul_. He saw things - all the personal, essential aspects of me - that I really didn't want him to see. I was helpless to stop it from happening. I could sense him somehow, too... sense his composure, his calculations, intelligence, determination... and that strong, primal part of him that just wanted to kill...

Seeing that evil was terrifying, and my mind broke free from his with the urge to run. But I quickly realized that he still had my hands. Before I could panic again, he placed a finger on my lips. His mind said CALM... and it was persuasive. He looked at the comparatively-small, tense body beneath him and leered. Then, a smile - as if he'd just come up with a deviously-perfect plan, and it involved me. Suddenly, inexplicably, he kissed me - it was so quick, and yet unexpectedly, overwhelmingly passionate... almost as if to distract me from what was coming next. A ribbon of light swept across him, and his leathers and armor disappeared. I stared, amazed. He was so beautiful... but my captor nonetheless; and I knew what he was threatening me with _now_. I wanted - more than answers to any of my own burning questions - burning _needs_ \- for him to let me go.

I decided to try to talk my way out of this position. But as soon as he saw that begin, he ended it, with one hard thrust. I exhaled sharply, in shock and pain, and tried to fight away. If he killed me, that was fine. But I was not about to let _this_ one be my final pain of death!

"No," he bellowed into my red-hot ear. "I'm afraid, this is not so simple. I promise not to break your form. But I've been inside your mind, as well, pet, and I know - " He thrust again, stretching, tearing his way deeper inside me. It hurt. I screamed.

" - that this will break your will."

All I could get out for protest then were little cries, too busy catching my breath between each measure of repetitive, unrelenting pain. I struggled and flailed, though, crying, _angry._ Insane. Then it melded with - and started to _amplify_ \- unexpected, distinctly _unwanted_ pleasure.

With each attempt to scream, or look away for help, he moved more feverishly. He paid close attention to my body at first, as if part of him were afraid he might accidentally tear me apart. I felt the same way! He was huge... Still, he held me down and shoved in harder. He held my wrists so tightly that they cracked and burned, as I kept instinctively trying to pull them out of it. I writhed, uselessly. Then I just endured it... the pain. Humiliation. I sought out and embraced the sickening pleasure, hoping it would keep me from losing my mind.

My cries did gradually extend into screams, but that only brought more force. I went limp, and accepted my fate. I tried to go somewhere else, and - except for my voice every time he thrust especially hard - my entire body relaxed. His eyes set on mine, and he reveled in them; something in them that he saw. He grasped my neck, which brought me back to life, but that new fear of death I felt... He took advantage of the lack of resistance and slammed in, way too deep. Despite his grip, I found myself screaming, my voice cracking in a combination of delirious ecstasy and a plea for him to stop. He continued of course, faster, in defiance, as a cruel grin spread across his face. It was then that I lost all hope for a pull-and-pray. I was mentally numb by the time he let out a loud, sharp breath through his teeth - but I still felt him pulsing, filling me up with hot, stingy last-thing-a-girl-wants-forced-upon-her. He released my neck as he pulled away, but he brought my hands forward. He inspected them, then tossed them onto my quivering stomach.

He stood up dripping with sweat, his hair jostled free, but not exhausted, like I was. I fell apart. I no longer had any desire to run... at least not anytime soon. I just stayed on the floor while my brain re-wired, struggling to understand everything that had just happened.

After a while he picked me up, and placed me deliberately against a cold stone wall, like a doll. He put his hand on my chest, leaned in, furrowed his brow and asked darkly,

"Would you fight me now?"

I didn't want to know what would happen if I refused to answer him again... but I was only able to whisper.

"No."

He placed a hand on my forehead, and all of my pain disappeared. I collapsed into a deep, heavy sleep.

Don't look at me like that.

 

BL:   I... I'm sorry. So you remember everything, about being under his control.

 

SI:   Yes, but that wasn't full control. He didn't have my mind, as he would with the scepter. He just... broke down my walls. I sort-of... gave in, to everything he did. Except for the sleep. That was not my idea at all.

I couldn't have been out for long. When I woke up, I felt the same amount of beat-up inside as before. It must have been a genuine sleep though, because I revisited my least-favorite nightmare. Did you ever read my file?

 

BL:   No...

 

SI:   Really. Well, I'm sure this is on page one. Back at my humble small-town college, I studied biological homology. My research group and I had just discovered and presented a clear path - at the molecular level- to the origin of all species. It was the greatest time in my life. Unfortunately, it came with the side effect of disproving a lot of creationism.

My colleagues and I were asked to present at a regional debate. The debate was intense and personal, and ended early due to my opponent's 'lack of professionalism'. I would get a new opponent at the national debate. But that night, my temper got the better of me, and we argued in the parking lot of the hotel. My colleagues were there too - and they emphatically backed me up - but I was the main target, the main section of the presentation.

I finally threw up my hands and walked away, expecting him to perhaps yell a jab as I did so, but not to follow me. I got maybe twenty feet before I heard fast footsteps behind me, and before I could turn around, a stinging, pulling pain in my back skin and muscles. The adrenaline rush was overcome in about two seconds, and then additional tearing and immense, burning pressure, as it slowly became impossible to breathe. I fell to the pavement. There was lots of screaming and yelling, incoherent, and then someone in black was touching me. But my body was circling the drain, and I was being pulled with it. Surprisingly, my last emotion wasn't fear. It was sadness, at the fact that this was my end. How senseless.

I woke up in a SHIELD facility, where the man and woman in black told me they'd been following my attacker for some time. He was the mentally unstable suspected leader of a dangerous cult. They were there for him, but she was able to get me to their base in time while he chased the guy down. They said they'd saved my life, giving me a new, experimental artificial replacement... for the half of my heart that I lost. [scoffing] Hearing that again wakes me up every time.

I jolted awake. I was still against the wall when a heavy-footed man walked into the room. I leapt up to confront the new threat. He looked me up and down, then turned away quickly. Without looking again, he laid some clothes at my feet.

"When you are ready, he wishes to speak with you."

As he left, I picked them up, eyeing the door. He took his post just outside, facing away. Guarding me. I wasn't going to get past him. So, I decided it was prudent to get dressed.

What I was given was not what I was picked up in. A fitted, sleeveless tunic dress made of something soft and light, black, with amazingly-fine embroidered edges. A little too short for my taste, but much better than nothing. After a minute, I went to the guard and demanded

"Where - " but just then Loki walked in, casually, hands behind his back. He'd been waiting outside. I stopped in the middle of the room, and averted my eyes.

"Why so shy?" He came to me, bending down a bit to where my eyes fell. "I've seen you. I've seen your mind _and_ your body. Your fears... Your dreams." He righted himself. "I never intended to harm you," he stated objectively. I looked up a little, seething, angry and fearful. I couldn't believe what I'd just heard.

"You... held me down... and - "

"I was merely making _clear_ \- to your curiously-combatant mind - my power and dominance. In a manner much more... enjoyable, than I might have used on another."

He seemed to expect from me... gratitude! I scowled at the floor.

I was trying so hard to contain myself that I jumped when he touched my arm. He ran his fingers lightly down its length again, as his words became dark and taunting.

"Would you have preferred that I use my daggers? Carved some distinctive marks into your fragile, yet sensitive skin?"

Yes.

"No! I..." He really had no remorse. I closed my eyes for a second, then opened them right on his.

"You _lied_ to me. The 'Lord of Lies' lied, and said he'd set me free." At that, he held up a finger.

"Ah, but no. You did not do as I asked." He circled me as he spoke. "But no matter. I know _now_ how to prevail upon you to comply." His tone lightened suddenly to a more melodic cadence.

"You have a secret, don't you, pet?" I tried to think. I had a lot of secrets.

He wrapped an arm swiftly around me and began to pull the dress up onto my back. I tried to turn and face him, but he already had a firm grip on the back of my neck. He held me in place. Having no desire to truly fight him, I gave up. He moved my hair aside to touch the manifest scars between my shoulders. It made me shiver.

"You have but _half a heart."_

He released me. I whipped around, staggered expression turning into a glare as I yanked the dress back down. He walked away, grabbed at the air near the wall, then turned back and brought forth the scepter.

I stumbled backwards in horror. I had nowhere to run. Letting him get close was suspicious, but better than the alternative. I let myself seize up in fear. He placed a hand on my shoulder and smiled suspiciously at my cooperation.

"Now. Let me have the heart which remains." Cautiously, he extended the blade towards my chest again. I waited, breathing faster. Only a few inches from my skin, I snapped out of it. I parried the scepter up and away, then grabbed it, twisting and bracing it against my elbow and forearm. I wrenched on it hard to rip it from his hand, but it didn't budge.

It did, however, catch him by surprise.

He stopped and looked from my hand to my face, with raised eyebrows. He laughed loudly - derisively - then admitted

"You are fierce..." and the scepter began to move. With all my strength I pulled on it, pulled it away, but he was just toying with me. Quickly, he pressed it to my chest - a little too hard, as it punctured the skin at first. He looked into my eyes and squinted, pushing it slightly to the left.

I felt a new pressure in my fast-beating, burning heart. I couldn't help but draw in a long, deep breath as it slowed, gradually overtaking that _stressful_ urge to resist. My vision blurred, then focused, on his face. He lowered the scepter and leered.

"... are you, _really_ , just a scientist?"

I was compelled to answer.

"Yes. After replacing my damaged parts with their device, SHIELD offered me a position they called 'supernatural physiologist'. I study the unusual traits and abilities of friendly subjects, and use it to brief agents going into the field with details of similar targets. Anything they consider a threat, they send to me. Because my job might involve me getting close to these individuals, I was trained to defend myself - and protect the clearance-required information that I have - under almost any circumstance."

He dipped his head towards me in acknowledgement.

"Come with me."

I followed him down some stairs and several hallways, to a huge, noisy, faintly-blue-lit room. There were people everywhere coming and going, working efficiently like parts of a machine. I entered and saw the Tesseract, surrounded by barriers and equipment, Dr. Selvig hard-at-work right next to it. We stopped close to him to observe his process.

"Do you know what the Tesseract is?" I looked at him, certain my answer wasn't right.

"It's a source of unlimited of energy." He barely stifled a laugh.

"It is that, yes. But more precisely, it's a connection, to every place in existence - and every space in between. Realms both near, and inconceivably far. When we are finished here, it will make possible the arrival of an _inexorable_ army, and they will bring all of humanity to their knees before my feet." I gazed at it, captivated.

I remembered, and brought to his attention an urgent matter:

"SHIELD will look for me. They never give up on a missing agent. They'll find a way to track me here, and attack before it's ready." He watched Selvig get excited about something, smiling slightly.

"No, I don't think they will. _You_ never left the fortress I obliterated. They counted your body amongst the dead." Incredulous, I made sure I understood.

"I... went against orders." With a dismissive laugh, he assured me,

"That is the least of their worries."

Then he directed his entire attention to me.

"So tell me: What, truly, gives rise to their virescent beast?" He stared while I thought for a moment how best to explain.

"His heart rate. If Banner experiences something that disturbs him enough, and it makes his heart to beat fast - like an immediate threat to himself or someone he cares for - the 'other guy' comes to the rescue every time. Their minds are the same, it's just a matter of chemical imbalances which one of them has control." He actually showed some thinly-veiled surprise. He looked away for a second.

"I understand they share the same body. Now if I were to free _the man,"_ his eyes narrowed, "- as I have you - would that mindset pass to it as well?" 

"I don't see why not."

He grinned a very distant, evil grin, as if he were imagining the mass destruction Hulk was capable of. It was the most beautiful thing I'd ever seen.

"What can I do to help?"

He refocused. Still smiling, he moved closer, leaving a little space between us. Still, he towered over me. He looked down and said sincerely,

"You have done _everything_ , pet. And I thank you for that..." He parted his lips to continue, but his expression turned to new thoughts. Instead, he raised a hand, and lightly traced his fingers down the side of my face and neck.

"My, but you are a _lovely_ little thing." I stayed perfectly still for him, as his hand paused over my heart. "I would have you stay here, with me. You'll have everything you need, just as was promised."

He looked for something in my eyes again. His expression softened when he found it.

"You may yet be of further use." I wasn't sure how to feel about that. I lowered my gaze respectfully.

"Yes, Loki Sir." I flinched a few times as his fingers continued down below my navel.

"You may refer to me as your king." I looked to him again.

"Yes, my king."

He let his hand fall, and walked away. I felt like I could breathe again. There was something screaming in fear of his intent, in the deepest recesses of my mind. I just couldn't even _begin_ to think how to act. I stared vacantly until he was out of sight.

A few feet behind me, my guard said

"Come with me."

He was a younger guy, tall, athletic in build. Dressed in an all-black military-looking uniform. Several weapons. He didn't have blue eyes. But he'd been Loki's messenger before, so I did as he said. Still, I felt an expression of growing concern on my face as we walked.

"Where is he going?"

The man looked over his shoulder at me.

"Stuttgart."

 

BL:   Germany. And you didn't feel like that was a bad thing, even in that state?

 

SI:   Nope. I thought everything he said was fantastic. I... wanted him to succeed. I felt like I was there to serve a greater purpose. It felt good when I helped him towards his goals, and bad when I wasn't helping - or remembering my former thoughts on it. And me staying there, though I didn't know why, was helping - because he wanted it.

We arrived at another room, which looked like it had been somebody's quarters at some point. There was a bed, and various simple articles of comfort, to distract from a conspicuous lack of electronics and windows. He motioned for me to go inside. I did. I looked around some more, then sat down on the bed. I noticed that he glanced around the hallway before entering and closing the door. He came over to the bed, knelt down, and whispered almost silently,

"My name is Agent Mark Sumner. I'm going to get you out of here."

I furrowed my brow, puzzled.

"You're an agent? How did you get in here?" He put a finger to his lips, with a look that was _begging_ me to whisper. He replied,

"I've been working undercover here since before it was taken over by Loki and his minions. This was a Hydra base of operations."

I considered what he was saying. He was not here because of Loki.

"I'm not leaving. He wants me here." He looked bemused, then very serious.

"This isn't _right_. You only think it is, because of the scepter. Just... trust me. Come on." He pulled me up from the bed by my arm. I grabbed his huge hand and tried to pluck it off of me.

"Goddammit I said no! I'm not leaving!" I protested, at full-volume. He immediately let go of my arm, and gave me a look of disbelief. He took a step back, pulled out his gun, turned it sideways and brained me with it. I blacked out.

I woke up on a different level of the complex, in his arms. We were traveling away from where everybody else was. Then all of a sudden, a tidal wave of emotions washed over me. Thoughts and feelings that I had no idea were ever missing made me nauseous. I replayed in my head all that had happened, but it was like it was from someone else's perspective. I didn't even really feel violated - they felt like a burden, these old, stubborn, logical thoughts. I hurt all over, inside and out. I tried to free a shaky arm. He looked down, stopped, and lowered me onto my feet. Then I noticed a sharp pain, and some blood, enough to make the dress to stick to my skin... right over where my heart was. Panic! It came back with a vengeance. I was sure I was wounded and in shock. I looked for the source. There was an inch-long scratch, deep, but not too serious. Then I put it all together. He stood close and watched, concerned, as I started to hyperventilate. He put a hand on my shoulder, making me jump.

"Listen. Right now, you can't think about what happened to you before. You're not there anymore, okay? You're safe, with me, and we're going to get out." I focused on his face instead of my thoughts, with big, wide eyes.

"I'm okay, I'm okay," I breathed, and then a couple more times quietly, reassuring myself. "I've... been away for awhile, haven't I? The scepter... " I let my words trail off. "Why did you hit me?"

"You resisted. I knocked you out so I could get you to a... colleague, who knows _all_ about brainwashing." He tried to hold back an inappropriate smile.  "Also, so you couldn't tell anybody what I'd said while I waited for the right time to extract you." I re-balanced my jittery legs.

"And how long was that?"

"Only about thirty minutes. Selvig completed his machine, all except the iridium that is, and it caused a commotion large enough to get everybody to stay in the same area for a bit." I remembered seeing something:

"Every door here is coded. How exactly do you plan to get out of here?"

"There's an entrance on this level; I have the code to open that door. None of the others use it because it faces the road, and you risk being spotted in full gear. Once we're outside the dampening field, I can contact my team. When I tell them Loki's here, as well as the Tesseract, they'll get backup and take the whole facility - a few days sooner than we'd planned, but no one will be able to follow us. Can you walk, or run?" I pondered that.

"I think I can run. Yes. I'd definitely enjoy running, as far and as fast as I can, away from Loki." He smiled, relieved.

"Well, that makes things easier."

I heard a very faint noise from the direction we just came from. Like someone was rustling a paper bag, and the hall amplified the sound. I turned my head back to alert agent Sumner. I had to grab my mouth to keep from screaming.

The sleek, shining handles of two daggers stuck out of his chest, the long blades deep inside. He still stood. He looked down in shock, shaking his head slightly, like he still didn't believe it. He looked back at me, and opened his mouth to say something, but he couldn't get it out before he collapsed to the cold tile floor. I screamed and cried soundlessly into my hands, shaking in terror. I couldn't help it.

I forced myself to get calm. The attacker was still somewhere, and I couldn't be standing there making girly noises and freaking out until I found out more about the situation. I backed away from his body first. I looked at it apologetically. Then I silently retrieved a dagger from it, covering my mouth again at the sickening sound. But I pushed those feelings out. Stealthily, I searched the nearby halls.

On the third or fourth one I passed, I saw a room with an open door - unusual, since all the others were locked down tight. I checked again for anyone following, then turned the corner towards it. A few steps later, an arm swept up from behind incredibly fast, and wrapped around my neck. It pulled me into a hard, armored body and held me there for a minute while I squirmed. The voice above my head hissed

"So... you would run from me. After all I've done to help you. I have freed you from all your troubles..." I grabbed the arm with one hand and tried to pull it off my neck, desperately. In the other hand, my fingers repositioned, clenching the handle of the dagger differently. But the arm clamped down even tighter, and another quickly ripped it from my hand. The voice then invaded my ear.

"All I asked of you - for this life of wealth, and simplicity - was to heed my commands." The arm released, and two big hands violently turned me around to face him. Loki. His face struck me still, with a new type of fear. A fear of wrath. He'd been watching us. Letting us get as far as we could, without risking actual escape. And all the while his anger was surely building.

Exasperated at my lack of response, he let his arms fall. He turned away for a second, then turned back and backhanded me. It was like a full-force hit from a very strong human. My head snapped down to one side, and I lost my balance. I stumbled, got my bearings, then lifted my head up to spite him, defiance in my eyes. But that wasn't what he saw. His expression went from betrayed and furious, to surprised. He grabbed my shoulders again and held me still.

"What?"

I looked away fast. Too late.

"He's changed you." He drew back, and whispered, "I... am sorry."

I felt a warm trickle of blood run down from my temple. He released the shoulder with the hand he struck me with, and looked at it like he couldn't believe what he'd just done. His fingers curled up and he cringed. With his other hand, he gently pulled me towards him. I resisted the movement... to no effect. He released just enough pressure for it to slide down to my own, and took a knee. With both his hands, he grasped mine, and lowered his head.

"I am sorry."

I was pretty out-of-touch with reality at that point. I couldn't have made a move, or a even good response, if I'd wanted to.

He stood up.

"You look weary. You sway, and bleed as well. We can't have that. Come."

I didn't bother to make noise or struggle while he led me down the halls. I knew that it was pointless. Plus, I was pretty sure I had a concussion. He led me by my hand, but occasionally that wasn't enough. I'd stumble and fall, or grab some part of his coat to avoid all that. He'd catch me every time. After a while he steadied my pace, with a hand on my upper back.

Sumner said he needed to contact his team on the outside, so they could wipe the place. The whole place. So there was nobody else on the inside. My only hope lay dead, in the middle of a hallway, surrounded by our enemies. And no one would ever even know what he did.

For the first time, I felt broken. For all intents and purposes, I belonged to this monster, Loki.  Who _seemed_ to care a little more about my well-being, for the moment. I was starting to think that maybe that wasn't so bad - provided the Lie-Smith wasn't just acting again. Perhaps he just... didn't realize exactly how strong he was; he hadn't fought a lot of humans. Of course, I didn't _want_ to be a captive, but his fury was all that threatened my existence. Perhaps I could learn to avoid it. But then I remembered his words... It was only a matter of time before he came up with some other 'use' for me. And for that, he still needed control.

Passing by groups of people, we collected a woman in a white lab coat, carrying a first-aid kit. We arrived at a room with a high workbench and table in the corner. Several hooks were cemented into the walls, like they once held heavy tools. I jumped when the woman tapped my shoulder. 

"Let me clean that up for you." I stayed quiet, afraid that he would detect dissent in my voice if I spoke. I sat down on the bench. He stood in the doorway observing, arms folded, as she smoothed back my hair to study the wound. He disappeared for a minute or two, then returned with something, tucking it into his coat. She turned my head back to face her before I could see it. She said she'd need to place stitches. His armor had deeply split the skin. There was so much adrenaline in my system, I didn't feel any pain. When she was done, she packed up and left. I was still touching my head when he approached, a somewhat-guilty look on his angular features.

"I have a gift for you." He held up a silver necklace by its ends. It was beautiful. Similar in style to the armor: finely-crafted, ornate plate-metalwork, with a strong and flexible chain to hold its weight. It gleamed brilliantly in the light - perhaps a little more than it should. I looked at him and touched it, curious about such a random act. It was, in fact, real. 

"May I?"

I knew I couldn't say no. Well I _could_ , but it wouldn't end well. And I was disoriented; very near the maximum amount of damage my head could take. I nodded, reluctantly. He smiled, not his usual haughty smirk, but like he was genuinely pleased at my reaction. He moved behind me, and set it on my collarbone gently, carefully. He gathered my hair and fastened the chain in the back. Then I heard the jingling of _heavy_ chains.

I whipped around. He had, wrapped around his hand, the end of a long chain - much of it on the floor. The other end was attached to the back of the hard metal necklace. My hands went immediately to my neck to try and break it anyway, as he walked to the wall, selected a hook, placed the chain, and bent the hook closed with one hand. I looked to him for an explanation, but he only regarded me from afar, with a slight, sly grin. I pulled so hard that my fingers snapped free of the smooth, fine metal. I didn't have the strength to oppose _anything_ he did now, at all. Devoid of all hope, I fought back angry tears. I closed my eyes... but one escaped. I put my head down to hide it as it rolled down my reddened cheek.

Hastily, he came over and crouched in front of me. His face showed great concern. I couldn't tell anymore if his feelings were genuine or not.

"Oh, _no,_ pet. You misunderstand. Since we've no way to expose these duplicitous allies, I must protect you, from your poisoned state of mind... should it recur."

The odd statement got my attention. 'Recur'. He does know I'm not under his control now... right? I thought. Is that what he really meant in the hallway, by 'changed'? But I haven't been speaking or fighting. Maybe he doesn't!

He gave me a reassuring smile, then stood up and left the room. He returned a few seconds later. He had that damned, vicious scepter in his hand.

I couldn't believe it. I jumped off the bench, but I knew that I'd never had fewer options than this. I could only back away as he inched forward - a modest, inviting smile on his lips. When I hit the corner, I sank into it, pulling my knees up to my chest. I buried my face in my arms and just... willed him to go away. But he lifted it up by my chin. He caught another tear on the end of his finger, and held it up it to show me.

"All of this will leave you. You'll again be favored with peace." It almost sounded better. With the anguish I was feeling, it sounded like a relief. I was weak. And ever since I had died that day and lived on by unnatural means, I'd secretly craved either justification... or relief.

He put a hand on my knee and moved it aside. He placed the tip of the scepter over my heart, remembering precisely where it was. I drew a breath, jagged from tears, and sat up straight, as it took me over again with ease. My whole body relaxed.

"That's better," he purred.  
  
BL:   So you survived not one, but three, attacks involving the scepter.  
  
SI:   Three altercations, yes. But only two of them worked. I have my screwed-up heart to thank for that. I'm sure a lot more would have happened, too, if I'd not been freed by Mark Sumner. And no, I have no idea why he took back his control, and didn't just kill me when I was free. So don't ask.  
  
BL:   I will not. But... what was it like the second time? Did you just go right back to the way you were?  
  
SI:   Sort-of. It was the same effect, but different circumstances. It took over this time... and then kept going. The mental strength wasn't there to conflict with it. It was like a series of floods; the first time carving channels as it went, and the second time they were there for it to follow. It changed some things instantly: I no longer cared about freedom, truth, or choice, only wanted to be useful to him in his goals. But the fear... that never went away. So my mind tried to put some logic to it instead. As the facts and feelings tried to fit back together, I stared into space. I picked up one link of chain, and followed it up to the back of my neck, touching the necklace where it joined. I looked down. He'd gone to all this effort to trick me, so he wouldn't have to overpower me again. He took away my freedom, but he _didn't want_ to hurt me anymore...

He took my hand, and helped me to my feet. I stood, but pulled away. I sidestepped out of the corner past him and moved along the wall, stopping just before the end of the chain would've forced me to. He didn't follow. I stood, with my back to him, shaking. I had not forgotten his violence. I heard a frustrated sigh. I turned, with trepidation, and glanced at his face. He met my gaze as soon as I did. 

_"Why_ do you _still resist_ me?" I turned away. I didn't want to answer... so badly, that I actually fought the urge to obey him. But this time instead of getting angry he stayed right there and whispered something. It was assertive, but so quiet that I almost didn't hear it.

"Tell me."

I was loyal again. I could only think of the truth to say. But I hesitated, and stuttered.

"I've... seen you kill. People that I know. I was there at the facility, too." I turned slowly and faced him, with the hope that he'd understand. But my eyes welled up at the thought. "To see someone die... for no reason other than anger..." - I choked - "...it's exactly what happened to me." His lips tightened and he lowered his brow. He disagreed. But he let me finish.

"I... am very afraid... of you." My eyes remained unfocused and I winced as I said it, now anxious. He lifted both eyebrows at that, more bemused than surprised. Then he cast his gaze downwards for a second, prompting me to look up for his reaction.

"I see." The slightest hint of a smile played on his lips. "I am rather terrifying, aren't I?" He didn't expect an answer. I stared, and he lifted his chin. "I can deliver such pain; such pleasure... or both. I can murder, show no mercy, show _you_ violence, though you're so very weak and small. However. I can also protect, and show you kindness... if I'm so oddly inclined."

He narrowed his eyes at me for a moment, studying my every nervous twitch. Then he reached to the floor, picked up a length of chain, and pulled on it, slowly. It turned the necklace around on my neck, then drew me in close to him. When there was no more chain left, he let it fall, then pulled me in by my waist, and simply held me against him. It caught me off-guard. I'd been expecting forcefulness. But there I was, stuck to his impossibly-strong, hard body, and it made me feel secure. I laid my head on his chest. It was what I needed at that moment, and all my suspicions of him lying and manipulating me any more went away.

I looked up, reached high, and touched his smooth, dark hair. I'd always been uncertain, but wanted to. He wasn't expecting that - but he let me do it - closing his eyes and smiling, almost bashful. Then he opened them and looked down at me. He seemed bewildered, like his own thoughts made even less sense to him than mine. He gave in to them, reached down, and began to delicately peel up the edges of my dress. I smiled as I watched his hands. His gentle touch was like praise, and I loved every second of it.

He put his hands on my bare waist. He guided me backwards, kissing me cautiously, tenderly the whole time, and stopped when I hit the wall. He reached into his coat again, which made me nervous, but his kindness thus far was so comforting; I stayed right where I was. He looked for my eyes, waited for me to meet his again, then lifted me up and pushed himself up into me, slowly this time. I gasped - but didn't fight it. He knew his full strength was too much, and in turn, he seemed fascinated by my soft, fragile skin. He tugged at it with his fingers as he held my legs in place, periodically checking my face for any sign of discomfort. When he saw no apprehension, he began to thrust deeper, pushing me up against the wall. I was tense, and I let out little whimpers each time he did. But gradually I relaxed, and this, passion - however genuine - overwhelmed me into release. I said his name with joy, on a final heavy breath.

He let me down onto my feet, with a somewhat shaky smile. He let go and stood up straight, adjusting his clothes. He happened to be gazing in my direction again when my smile faltered, and I ran my hand up my back to touch my scars. He looked me over, concerned for what was bothering me. I checked my hand for blood. Still significantly more tender than normal skin, it only burned this time, from the friction of the wall. I was used to that though. I reassured him,

"They're only a year old. They will toughen up. But for now, they're annoying... and ugly." He frowned. I realized that there were no scars on him, and wondered if that was something that even happened to his race. He stared off, contemplating something for awhile, then looked back uncertainly.

"Trust me... please." He pulled a key from another pocket. He watched me closely, as he unlocked the chain from the necklace. It slid off my chest to the floor, and he quickly took my hand. He raised it to just above my head, then used it to turn me around so I faced the wall. He opened my fingers and placed them there.

I was anxious about what he was doing. I turned my head, trying to see behind me - a bit phobic of people in that position, as he lifted up my dress and peeled it off, over my head. He moved all my hair to my shoulder, smoothing it down to make it stay, and put his hand on my back, just a few inches from my scars. He pressed me to the wall, gently, but firmly enough that I couldn't move. He ran his fingers all the way down each mark, slowly, feeling every texture and edge. Then he held his hand over them - so close that I could feel the heat from it - for what seemed like forever. Finally, he let me back up. I turned around and immediately and reached for the scars. He tried to hide a smug, gratified grin as I stretched to touch them - or where they _used to_ _be._  
  
BL:   What, really? Let me see.  
  
SI:   Sure. The doctor already has... I don't think it's a secret. [getting up from chair, turning, pulling shirt up]  
  
BL:   Oh my god...  
  
SI:   [laughing] Yeah; pretty much. [resuming seated position] Anyway.

Soon after, a man in that black military uniform came in.

"Pardon me, Loki Sir." Loki turned and raised his chin to him, listening.

"Dr. Selvig says to tell you 'she' is ready." He rolled his eyes slightly at Selvig's obsessive pronoun. Loki nodded. In his normal, commanding tone, he said

"Thank you."

He turned back to me, with a new expression of resolute desire. The edges of his black coat lit up and burned away, being replaced with green and gold, full royal battle armor - complete with imposing, golden-horned helm. He picked up the scepter, awe-inspiring when held in its full form.

"I must go, and lead my army to victory." I felt the chill of dread. Victory - the point of all of this - versus humanity. I was sure of his intelligence, power and strength, but very unsure if that was all going to be enough. He took my hands in his.

"After, when this realm is mine to rule, I will have no need for these peripheral wights. I'll send them away... and I'll make you my queen, when I return." I was surprised, and I smiled, honored.

But he never did.  
  
BL:   You... say that like it saddens you.  
  
SI:   What? _No,_ it's just.... a lasting effect, of the scepter. I remember feeling that way, and _all_ feelings take a long time to dissipate. If they ever do at all.  
In my controlled state, I loved him. It's like... [laughing] the worst case of Stockholm syndrome, ever. And I believe that, in some twisted way, he loved me too. He just... didn't know how to care for anyone weaker - mentally or physically - than himself.

In my natural state, I presented him a challenge. His hold on me was _always_ slightly tenuous. And to someone who craves control, a greater challenge means a greater win.  
  
BL:   Hm. That does seem to fit his profile. So, how did you get out?  
  
SI:   By running.

I haunted the rooms and halls - watching everyone run around and clean things up, wondering how long I'd be waiting. I don't know what happened to my SHIELD uniform, but apparently nobody ever saw it. Then, suddenly, the influence of the scepter over me was cut off... abruptly. I stumbled and almost collapsed; the disorientation was so extreme. I didn't know what to do. It was far more disconcerting than just waking up normally without it. It was like being shocked back into existence, after death. But as soon as I regained my faculties, I ran. I moved as quickly and silently as I could, until I found a door with people in it. Then I just followed them out, without issue.

Outside, I was injured, scantily clad, barefoot, and exhausted from the start - but I was free. And I sure as shit was not going to stop moving.  
  
BL:   Do you have any idea where you were?  
  
SI:   Yes. It was a military base, somewhere in New Mexico. I walked a long way before someone found me. But I'm sure I can lead you there.  
  
BL:   Really? Are you up to it now?  
  
SI:   Of course.

[sighing] Ben... I've made my peace with this already, and I'm _okay_. I wouldn't be here if I wasn't. I'm returning to active duty. I am ready to go when you are.  
  
BL:   Alright. Let's do this.  
  
[party leaves room]

* * *

  
  
She led us to the base in New Mexico. It was abandoned.  
After the events in London, Agent Iversen went AWOL. She simply disappeared. All efforts to locate her have failed. The general consensus, at this point, is that she can't be on this planet anymore.  
I believe this is evidence that Loki is still at large. All of this was just an elaborate ruse to hide that fact. Agent Iversen's story is probably true - she did believe that she was free of him - but he never completely lost contact with her. And now she is gone.  
There are very few 'realms' in the Yggdrasil system where she could survive alone, and we can assume from the effort put into this plan, that he wants her alive. It's imperative that we find out where she is, and how she left. We need to find her - find Loki - before he does something so destructive that we can't even conceive of it yet. His favorite target thus far has been the one on which he wants revenge. And he's very good at getting what he wants.  
  
\- Commander Hill

**Author's Note:**

> I do welcome comments. This is my first work ever, anywhere. The idea sat in the back of my head for a long time. I decided to put it into post-able words it because it was fun, and also very scary. = )  
> I made a point not to read anything else at all while writing this. I wanted to see how different/similar it would end up to the ideas of others. Now I'm not quite sure how to feel about the comparison. There are a LOT of elements I was/am unsure of. But I do plan to keep writing things, so if anything bugs you about this one, please say.  
> I have continued the storyline in The Frost and the Phoenix Mind, but because of - among other things - the format difference, it doesn't quite strike me as a sequel/series. It continues to evolve in a manner somewhat divergent from this.


End file.
